Early next morning, my family began frantic preparations for Mr. Nakamura's arrival, which was due in twelve o'clock sharp. While Miko was busy weaving spellcraft, I took the time to instruct the children how to behave.

We had eight daughters, hatched in two clutches of four: Roro, Ruru, Kiki, and Keke of the first clutch, and Rara, Riri, Koko, and Kyakya of the second clutch. Roro, Ruru, Rara, and Riri were miniature copies of their mother; while Kiki, Keke, Koko, and Kyakya looked like me in terms of size and body shape. It was a weird sort of genetic (I think?...) split, though I did not complain.

What made it really weird was that all of our daughters were, well – they were hermaphrodites. Yes, they sported the full package down there. Yet their voices and (as far as I can tell) disposition were decidedly feminine, hence why I called them daughters. The first time I saw them after hatching, it was... well. Not that I complained; in fact, I felt a strange sort of fatherly pride of my children being somehow 'superior' in terms of sexual development.

Visually, it was easy to distinguish them from one another: their colorations were distributed half-and-half between Miko's (azure and magenta) and mine (black and red). They also had heterochromia, again inherited from us – amber from Miko and green from me. It made distinguishing our daughters much easier (for me, at least), although once they all are fully grown up, I'd be hard-pressed to recognize them individually.

And speaking of that, they grew up extremely fast. The elder daughters were barely six months old, yet were already halfway in size to their respective 'parent types' and acted more like late teens than actual children. The younger daughters were only three months old, and while they were definitely more childish, nobody would mistake them for infants either. With such growth rates, I'd barely have the time to enjoy my children as a parent before they become adults; though if me and Miko continued to, ahem, make them with such regularity, I may have ample time to play father, if only in bitesized chunks.

But enough about our children, back to the meeting.

We all put on actual clothes for the occasion, this being an event of critical importance: I went with formal uwagi and hakama in dark blue tones, with orange embroidery, while Miko and the girls all got dressed in colorful, floral-patterned kimonos with huge obi ribbons to grace their midsections. (You may wonder from where such elaborate – and expensive – wardrobe came from? Magic, of course! Miko made them herself, patterns and all!) For footwear we all wore simple zori, because our digitigrade claws could not accommodate shoes easily (and because we rather prefer not to wear any).

With us dressed and everything prepared for the meeting, we set out to wait. It was barely ten in the morning.

***

"Let me see if I understand correctly, Mister Raveloff," Mr. Nakamura said, and sipped a tasteful of tea. "You and your family 'express your sincere and natural desire to live freely among wider society'. So?"

The conversation was conducted in English, and Nakamura spoke in crisp, precise manner without a trace of accent.

"Yes, that is correct, Nakamura-san," I said anxiously.

"Very well," Nakamura said, putting down his tea cup. He tapped two fingers on the rim, showing his approval of the brew. "That is impossible."

Mr. Nakamura was severe in expression and dressed sharply in a black business suit. He was tall for a Japanese, at six feet. He wore black mirrorshades, which he didn't remove during the meeting. During our introduction, I learned that Nakamura wasn't a mere special agent, but a special adviser of the Minister of Defense himself. In addition, the credentials Nakamura had presented me officially specified he was from the Defense Intelligence Headquarters, rounding him off definitely as a major VIP.

"Impossible!? Why is my family's request impossible?" I demanded.

Nakamura said nothing, only quirked his mouth at my abandoned decorum. We were sitting in the shrine temple's guestroom, the walls decorated with lovely pastel-colored cranes and the window offered a nice view to Mount Taishaku. I glanced at the delicate tea service, holding back the urge to flip the whole table in frustration.

After a full minute of silence, Nakamura finally spoke. "I am authorized to offer you and your family sanctuary under strict terms. Those terms are you entering permanent service in the JSDF as a special military division. Your family and all of your descendants will be covered under the scope of this arrangement. In return, you shall enjoy, in a modified capacity, the same freedoms afforded to those who are employed in Japan's military forces."

I stared, mouth agape, at Nakamura who calmly waited for my response. Was this guy fucking serious?

"Are you fucking serious?" I asked.

"Indeed, Mister Raveloff, I am entirely serious," Nakamura replied.

"What kind of totalitarian bullshit is this!" I roared. "You have the temerity of calling our forced indenture an 'offer'?! In the military, no less? What, are you gonna use us as some kind of monstrous super soldiers? Huh, is that it!? How dare you treat us like dangerous criminals – worse, like monsters – for merely existing! You can take your 'offer' and shove it up your ass, you Japanese self-dicking fucks!"

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"Mister Raveloff," Nakamura interrupted me coldly, "you have entirely the wrong premise here. The JSDF isn't keeping your family imprisoned without reason. We are, in fact, protecting you."

"What??" I blurted. "You honestly expect me to believe that??"

"Take time to contemplate some scenarios, Mister Raveloff," Nakamura said. He leaned forward, eyes hidden behind the mirrorshades. "What do you think will happen when other militaries around the world learn about your existence? What would the Americans do? Or the Russians? Or the Chinese?" There was a harsh edge in Nakamura's voice. "I can assure you, Mister Raveloff, if the latter political power had taken hold of you, instead of us, your current treatment will appear like a five star vacation in comparison. You can scarcely imagine the horrors you and your family would've experienced, Mister Raveloff. The others wouldn't be much better, either. Hollywood may exaggerate certain aspects when it comes to how black operations are conducted, but their overall suppositions are correct."

"And," Nakamura continued while I listened in stunned silence, "regarding the keeping of secrets, the JSDF cannot hide your family's existence for much longer. For the past year the Ministry had to deflect or misdirect rumors of increasing complexity about the Makinata Quarantine; it has come to a point where each day threatens to have this whole conspiracy blown wide open."

The word 'conspiracy' galvanized me, breaking my trance. "Let it blow wide open, then," I snapped. "I shall like to see how the JSDF will then try to limit our freedom, Nakamura-san."

"And what would you do, Mister Raveloff, once other organizations go on the hunt for your family?" Nakamura retorted.

"We will go and hide somewhere else," I said heatedly. "The world is a big place, after all. The Amazon, the Siberian tundra, the African jungles: plenty of regions where one can disappear, even in this day and age."

But even as I spoke, my words rang hollow. I knew it was impossible for someone like me and Miko to hide, to truly hide, anywhere on Earth. A year ago my position had been reversed, where I had explained to Miko the same sentiments that Nakamura was trying to explain to me now.

Nakamura gave a nigh-imperceptible shake of his head. "Are you willing to spend the rest of your life on the run, Mister Raveloff? To have your family hiding and running, constantly in danger?"

"As if your proposal is any better, Nakamura-san" I said coldly. "What you 'offer' so generously amounts to slavery, no matter how you dress it." I crossed my arms, and looked at the special agent with open contempt. "Between two equally bad choices, I will always choose the one which gives me more freedom."

Nakamura lifted an eyebrow, a minimalist gesture. "What about the risks?" he asked.

"The risks be damned!" I said. "Life itself is fraught with risk, from cradle to grave; one is always in danger of leaving this world prematurely. What matters is how one spends the time they've been granted, and the choices they make while walking the earth. If those choices are meaningful, then that life, however long or short, is a life well lived.

"And I'll rather focus on my life having meaning instead of being devoid of risk," I finished, staring fiercely at Nakamura.

Silence. The tea service clinked as Mr. Nakamura put down his cup, empty.

"I understand that you refuse the offer then, Mister Raveloff?" he asked.

"Yes, you are correct, Nakamura-san," I said in my most formal manner. "I refuse your offer."

"How unfortunate," Nakamura said simply. "In that case, I am required to inform you, Mister Raveloff, that the JSDF will be forced to take extreme measures regarding your case."

I stiffened, unbelieving. "Is that the current political term for 'murder'?" I said with forced bravado.

"No, nothing so crass as murder," Nakamura said. "We are not savages. We will instead depopulate the area and force all residents to keep the matter in utter confidentiality. We will find ways to silence even the foreigners. And then," Nakamura's mirrorshades glinted, "we will imprison you and your family properly, Mister Raveloff, to manage you without risk. You give us no choice."

I listened in shock how matter-of-factly Nakamura detailed my family's doom. Cold, half-forgotten dread clenched my gut. "Why didn't you do so a year ago?" I asked in a small voice. "Why are you threatening us now?"

Nakamura smiled. He actually smiled. It was a completely mirthless and frightening expression.

"Oh, but we did so, Mister Raveloff," he said gravely. "May I remind you what happened in the beginning? How you and your wife were restrained and tranquilized, kept in cages and constantly under guard?

"And then you escaped confinement," Nakamura continued, "but instead of wreaking havoc or taking revenge upon the JSDF or simply running away, you contacted us. You begged the JSDF to recognize your status as living and thinking persons, to treat you in a more humane matter, even though you aren't human.

"Do you not remember, Mister Raveloff, that it was you who asked for a situation that would be beneficial to both parties involved?"

I listened, astonished at this presentation of events. Everything Nakamura said was factologically correct and yet so very, very wrong.

"And so the JSDF have generously provided you with temporary shelter," Nakamura concluded. "It was the very best we could do, under the circumstances, and we did it for a whole year. But the JSDF cannot do so anymore. That is why the Ministry have sent me, Mister Raveloff. I am here to re-negotiate terms."

"Ti ebavash li se!" I exclaimed. "You came here, presenting a one-sided deal, and threatened me when I refused? This isn't a negotiation! It's an ultimatum!"

"Yes, it is," Nakamura agreed. I paused mid-sentence, amazed. "Yet this is how things stand. This is the reality of the situation, Mister Raveloff."

Mr. Nakamura rose from the table, and put on his black trilby hat. "Since you have refused the JSDF's offer, my visit here is concluded," he said.

He then headed outside. I followed him sullenly, thoughts and fears roiling in my mind. As the two of us exited the shrine temple, Miko and the children gathered in the courtyard in two rows to give the special agent a formal send off. Their faces showed plainly they had heard everything.

Mr. Nakamura paused at the shrine temple's entrance, and turned to me. "I shall be generous, Mister Raveloff," he said. "You will have a week to reconsider your answer. If you do so, notify Commander Tanaka to call me."

With those departing words, the JSDF special agent crossed the courtyard and climbed into the heavy duty jeep he had come with. Then he drove away, leaving me in a grim and depressing mood.